


The Goldfish

by aravenwood



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Science Bros, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: One day, Tony gives Bruce a goldfish. It's a little thing; orange and scaly and emotionless. Bruce jokingly calls it Fury for that last characteristic and it sticks.





	The Goldfish

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this on my computer for a year and a half, but I forgot about it... whoops. This is set after the first movie...probably...I like to think of that as the happy times for the Avengers...maybe their honeymoon period...*sobs because why can't they all be happy*
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

One day, Tony gives Bruce a goldfish.

It’s a little thing; orange and scaly and emotionless. Bruce jokingly calls it Fury for that last characteristic and it sticks. He keeps it in a glass bowl and stocks it with green plants and a plastic skull and puts that bowl in his lab because he’s there far more than his room.

Tony likes to drop little bits of food in for Fury whenever he passes rather than full pinches three times a day like the book says. He cares for Fury almost more than Bruce does. Sometimes Bruce catches him watching the slow, rhythmic movement of a fanned tail tearing through the water – it’s therapeutic and soothes his anxiety when it’s at its worst.

Fury grows and grows for several weeks, its beady eyes so big and yet so blind to the world on the other side of the glass. Maybe it thinks the entire world _is_ the glass bowl and its plants. Maybe it thinks the skull is a fallen comrade – but if that’s the case then its morals are pretty damn questionable if it still likes to hide in the eye socket and play peekaboo around the teeth. Feeding and watching Fury becomes a routine and a conversation point that brings him closer to his teammates.

_“How’s the fish, Doctor Banner? Still swimming?” “Yes, he is alive.”_

_“Brother Banner, how is your gilled companion?” “He’s well, thank you Thor.”_

_“Did you know that fish can recognise faces?” “A likely theory, but I can imagine that will be disproved soon as the three second memory span theory was.”_

_“Brucie, I think Fury’s trying to give me a heart attack! He stops moving and I’m afraid he’s dead but he’s just sleeping!” “When he starts floating, let me know.”_

After a life of being too afraid of loss to get close to someone, he finally starts to relax and love Fury for what it is – a companion.

And then Fury dies.

 

 

It’s a Wednesday morning and for once Bruce and Tony actually slept in beds the night before rather than lab stools or the futon in the corner that is far too uncomfortable to be worth the price Tony paid for it. Bruce is the first one in the lab because he doesn’t really do breakfast – actually, he doesn’t really do food unless he has to.

 

He passes Fury’s bowl on the way to get the fish food without sparing a glance at his companion to ensure it’s there – it’s a fish after all, it’s not as if it can run away. He picks up the plastic tub of food and shakes it. Almost empty; he’ll need to buy some more. Now he moves to Fury’s bowl and actually sees Fury for the first time.

The little orange creature is belly-up on the surface of the water. Its eyes are still open – there isn’t even an eyelid to close – but they’re as blank as if they’ve been replaced by buttons like in that movie that terrifies Clint. Fury’s dead; there’s no doubt about that.

Bruce’s entire body starts to tremble and his knees are suddenly so weak they collapse under his weight and he ends up kneeling on the lab floor next to the workbench. He keeps looking at Fury like that’ll bring it back to life. It doesn’t work. Fury just keeps floating there, all still and dull and dead.

He stays like that for an indeterminate amount of time before a generic hand holding a net scoops Fury up and takes him away. Bruce doesn’t move. An arm snakes around his shoulders and pull him up against a solid chest. He doesn’t move. Someone shouts in his ear; “Doctor Banner? Doctor Banner? Bruce!” He doesn’t move.

“Bruce, I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would happen – if I did I never would have bought the damn thing,” Tony’s voice says from nearby. In fact, now that Bruce thinks about it, Tony’s the one holding him. Steve’s kneeling on his left side, clutching his hand. Natasha’s doing the same on his right side. Further down, Clint has Bruce’s feet on his lap and is squeezing his left calf. There’s something warm on his body too; Thor’s cape, he realises. The demigod returns from disposing of Fury’s corpse – he hates to think of it in that way, but it’s true – and crouches between Tony and Steve. He puts a hand on Bruce’s bicep and tightens his grip.

They’re all around him in a defensive circle; protecting him from something on the outside of the circle or protecting him from himself? He doesn’t care about the answer to that question – all that matters is that something else he loves in his life is dead.

Rebecca Banner, his mother, died when he was seven.

Brian Banner when he was twenty-one.

Phil Coulson only a year ago.

Betty Ross was lost in a different sense – he loved her but she’d moved on and didn’t deserve to love a monster.

And now Fury. It’s proof, he thinks – he doesn’t deserve to love anyone or anything, and anyone he does love is right in the firing line. The thought brings angry tears to his eyes that his teammates mistake for grief. They each try to soothe him in their own way.

Tony whispers in his ear about it being his fault for buying the fish.

Steve tries to reassure him that it might be painful now but it’ll get easier.

Natasha hums the same song Bruce sometimes plays in the lab.

Thor grips his arm to show that he’s there – too subtle and rational to be the demigod’s first instinct – and Clint shushes him like he’s a baby crying for his deceased mother.

All this comforting gives Bruce time to think, and that’s a bad idea. “It was my fault,” he realises with a gasp.

The others object at once; “Bruce, don’t do that to yourself.” “It wasn’t your fault, Banner.” “Doctor Banner, you couldn’t have done anything about it.” “Shh.”

“But it was. L-last night when Tony and I left the lab, I remembered seeing that the weather was going to be a lot colder today and so I asked JARVIS if he would turn the heat up so the tower would be nice and warm in the morning. A sudden change in temperature can kill a fish,” he stutters and this time his tears are of misery as well as anger. How could he have been so stupid? Hadn’t he been thinking at all?

Tony should be angry at him, he thinks; watching that fish means that Stark hasn’t had a panic attack in two and a half weeks and now that his only source of therapy is gone it’s a massive setback for his PTSD. Not only has Bruce killed something else he loved but he’s also dealt damage to Tony’s fragile mental health. “I’m so sorry, Tony,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

The arm around his chest holds him closer and Tony’s breath is on his neck. “It wasn’t you, Brucie. You didn’t kill him. Sometimes fish just die for no discernible reason – you know that. _I’m_ sorry; you let it slip right after a Hulk-Out that you think everything you love dies and I thought that getting you a pet might make you feel better. I should have got you something that lives for years – a cat or a dog or a bird. I’m so sorry, Bruce,” Tony mumbles into his hair and hearing the guilt in his voice only triggers more tears.

When did I become an emotional wreck? Bruce wonders. “N-not your fault,” he slurs between sobs.

“It’s not true.” Steve’s deep blue eyes widen and he looks so innocent and unlike the super-soldier and hero that he is. “That everything you love dies? It’s not.”

“The captain is correct, Doctor.” That’s Thor. Although Bruce can’t see him too well through his tears, he can imagine the demigod’s face.

Natasha and Clint hum their agreement.

“W-what?” Bruce coughs. He’s exhausted; his muscles are weak like he’s just come down from being the Other Guy and his mind is fuzzy.

“They’re right, Brucie. At least partly,” Tony agrees. “We love you and we’re not dead.”

Bruce is barely able to comprehend those words but they fight through the fog with bayonets and machetes. They can’t love him. What is there to love? A monster? He repeats his thought aloud and suddenly the five of them are up by his head – one of them is stroking his hair, two more are clinging to his forearms and Tony and Thor’s hands remain where they were.

“You’re not a monster, Bruce. You’re our friend and we care about you,” Natasha argues and there’s never been so much genuine emotion in her voice.

“You shouldn’t,” he mumbles, his eyelids fluttering as unconsciousness fights to take him.

Clint speaks now; “But we do, Doc. What’re you gonna do about it?” Tactful as ever.

But Bruce barely hears him. He can’t open his eyes anymore and his muscles relax into their hold. Someone shouts in concern but is quickly shushed.

“ _It’s alright; he’s exhausted and grieving so he’s allowed to pass out just this once._ ”

“ _Do you think he heard us? Do you think he understood?_ ”

“ _If he didn’t we’ll say it again and again and again until he listens. He’ll figure it out eventually._ ”

“ _What do we do with Fury?_ ”

“ _Give him a proper burial._ ”

Fury’s buried outside Avengers Tower with all of them present plus Jane, Darcy, Rhodey, Sam and Pepper. In that week’s issue of _People_ magazine, there are several pictures of them all huddled around in black and orange with the headline, “ _The Avengers’ Fallen Comrade._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!


End file.
